


veraison

by poetcores



Series: coeur de cuvée [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Come as Lube, Jeon Wonwoo is Whipped, M/M, Praise Kink, Vampire Jeon Wonwoo, Vampire Kim Mingyu, bc of course, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetcores/pseuds/poetcores
Summary: “It’s the second time you’ve apologized for something you’ve wanted today,” Wonwoo points out. “Don’t do that.”And that is a command.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, implied Jeon Wonwoo/Yoon Jeonghan, implied Kim Mingyu/Yoon Jeonghan
Series: coeur de cuvée [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057988
Comments: 9
Kudos: 117





	veraison

**Author's Note:**

> this work is part of a series, and it's set in the immediate aftermath of the previous one. it's preferred that you read it before reading this, but i can't tell you what to do!

Whatever Mingyu expected would happen in the immediate aftermath of his clusterfuck of a week is not what really happens. In reality, he’s not even sure of what he expected. Wonwoo doesn’t ask any questions on their way home, but he laces their fingers and holds his hand so tight Mingyu realizes he’s scared he will suddenly disappear from his side. 

  
  


He feels guilty. He knows, logically, that it’s not his fault he got poisoned and almost met his true death. It is his fault, however, that what happened between him and Jeonghan happened. They were both willing, but it doesn’t change the facts. 

  
  


Now he knows a whole new side of Wonwoo he wasn’t privy to before. The side of him that loves someone -- not the way he loves Mingyu or Minghao, but is _in love_ with someone. Wonwoo saved him from death, and somewhere along the way Mingyu decided to repay him by falling in love with him, almost dying, and then fucking the man he’s in love with. All around great choices. 

  
  
  


As soon as they’re home, Wonwoo reaches for him, hand cupping the side of Mingyu’s face. He rarely ever initiates physical contact himself, and Mingyu had to learn that’s just who he is. Mingyu himself can’t understand it -- he’s constantly craving affection and physical reassurance -- but he taught himself not to feel so hurt by it. 

  
  


Wonwoo, however, has gotten much more lenient and accepting of his clinginess. And sometimes, like this time, he even starts it himself. The hand on his face is almost warm, even though that would be impossible, and the thumb caressing his cheek soothes him like a balm. He would have Wonwoo’s hands on him all the time, if he could. Like a brand. 

  
  


“You’re sure you’re okay? You should rest some more.” He murmurs, voice low and heavy. The worry is so apparent it wraps around Mingyu like an embrace. 

  
  


He smiles at him, because it’s all he can do. “I’m fine, Wonwoo. I swear. All new.” 

  
  


Wonwoo looks like he’s about to say something else, only to be interrupted by Minghao appearing from the top of the stairs. Mingyu instinctively opens his arms to be met in a bone-crushing hug in the blink of an eye, even though he mourns the loss of Wonwoo’s touch.

  
  


“You’re an idiot,” Minghao says into his ear, tightening his hold a little more. “And an asshole. Pick a struggle.”

  
  


“Oh my god,” Mingyu laughs, burying his face in Minghao’s neck. He smells like home. Mingyu had always joked he makes a much better vampire than him, even though they were turned almost around the same time. He always smells comforting, and he’s always warm and inviting. The most dangerous traits of a predator. “You missed me _so bad._ ”

  
  


“Absolutely not,” Minghao protests, finally letting up on the hug. He’s grinning. “Should’ve left you in a ditch.” 

  
  


Mingyu punches him in the arm. “Asshole. Come on, you have to tell me everything that happened while I was rotting away.” 

  
  


“Ah,” His face falls, expression turning regretful. “I can’t...I have to go. Jun needs my help.” 

  
  


Mingyu whines in protest, “We just got back. What could possibly be so urgent?” 

  
  


Wonwoo looks at them both pointedly. They all know Minghao can’t refuse Jun anything, and if the older even asked, it means he really needed the help. “What is it?” 

  
  


“There’s a fledgling on the loose, Jun-ge thinks whoever sired him dipped… He wants to get to them before we attract hunters again. You know I’m good with tracking.” It’s a good enough explanation that none of them can question it. 

  
  


It’s a touchy subject for Minghao. Whoever turned him did the same, and Minghao never understood why. Wonwoo was lucky to find him before he did too much damage to humans, when he was newly reborn, blind from rage and bloodlust and immense _hurt_ from being turned and abandoned. They did the best he could for him, and Junhui the same, but he knows Minghao still feels the emptiness in place of where the sire bond would be. 

  
  


Mingyu can’t even begin to imagine what it would’ve been like to wake up cursed and alone, unable to control the urge to hurt others, without Wonwoo’s guiding hand and voice to anchor him, teach him how to survive and how not to be a monster. He reaches for Minghao’s hand and squeezes it. 

  
  


Wonwoo nods at him. “Be careful. Call me if you need anything.” 

  
  


“Yeah, I will,” Minghao promises. “I’ll try to be back as soon as I can.” 

  
  


“Don’t get killed, dumbass.” Mingyu grumbles, even though there’s no one else besides Wonwoo and Himself he trusts more with Minghao than Junhui.

  
  


Minghao snorts. “You’re one to talk, stupid. Don’t get your ass poisoned again.” 

  
  


He pulls Minghao into another hug, inhaling the scent of him. “We’ll talk when I get back.” Minghao says to him very pointedly, like he just knows Mingyu has something to tell him. 

  
  


“God, yeah. We _will_.”

  
  


Wonwoo simply ignores them. 

  
  
  
  


The thing about Mingyu is that he overthinks everything. Wonwoo had explained to him once, in the beginning of it all, that being turned doesn’t truly change your personality. It changes your urges and adds a killing intent to it, but it doesn’t change how you react to things. 

  
  


Being a vampire, he said, is a curse of the nature that takes your right to live without letting you die. You can’t stay under the sun, you don’t have a heartbeat, you don’t age or die and you crave feeding off of your own kind. The closer to the person, the stronger the bloodlust. But if you were a good person when you were turned, you probably would continue to be somewhat decent after. 

  
  


There is no suddenly _turning evil_. There is confusion, and there’s adapting, but nothing fundamentally changes about your personality. It just shows your true colors. 

  
  


Mingyu’s personality before turning had always been so willing to please. He had always tried to make himself useful, to craft himself into the perfect friend so people wanted to be around him. It often got suffocating to other people, his clinginess, his constant need for affection. He had learned to conceal that. 

  
  


But just as Wonwoo had said, he doesn’t change much after turning. He’s still too clingy, too affectionate, too eager to just be good, pleasant. It’s just that with him being dead to the rest of the world, his entire attention goes to Wonwoo. So he gets nervous, and he overthinks his every move, and it’s even worse when he knows he’s done something bad. 

  
  


The more he thinks about it, the more sleeping with Jeonghan categorizes as something very, very bad. 

  
  


So he stalls. He locks himself up in his room all day, rearranges his clothes, rearranges his furniture, texts chan. It’s in those moments he misses being human so bad. For humans, time doesn’t pass so weirdly. He used to have _things_ to do, goals to aim for. 

  
  


He used to stress cook and bake, to play sports for the sake of getting in shape, go out drinking for the sake of getting drunk. Moments like these highlight how undead he is, frozen in time, except he doesn’t get the luxury of not _feeling_ , and is left stuck with his thoughts. 

  
  


It reminds him it’s a curse, so it’s supposed to feel like one. Reminds him how unfair it is the way he died, how Wonwoo died, how he could never have a normal, human, mortal life again. He couldn’t meet Wonwoo in college, or at a bar, or at a library. He couldn’t ask him on a date, try to win him by charm alone; get married, get a dog.

  
  


He couldn’t call his mom or his dad. He couldn’t burst into Minseo’s room just to stare at her until he got annoyed, or tell her his boy problems while she dramatically cried that he was gross and she didn’t need to know. He couldn’t tell her about Wonwoo. 

  
  


It was lonely up in his head. It was a lonely existence itself, being cursed. He couldn’t afford to lose Wonwoo, but he knew he _had_ to tell him. Jeonghan seemed to want him to, and maybe he knows Wonwoo so much better than him that he knew he wouldn’t kick him out of his stupidly rich house. Right?

  
  


Right. Maybe. 

  
  
  
  


He realizes he’s lost track of time several hours later. It makes no sense to delay it, so he sets off to find Wonwoo. He’s in the house, he knows by scent. At home, they have no need to remember to breathe or blink, to make noise or act human, but he was so attuned to Wonwoo’s general presence he can sense him strongly even in the dead quiet. 

  
  


He finds him in the library -- god, sometimes he forgets they even have one in the house -- carefully reading a book Mingyu knows has to be the nerdiest thing ever, sitting by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. He looks gorgeous in the moonlight, still like a painting, wholly inhuman but still looking _alive_. Mingyu swells with both affection and fear. He would do anything not to ever lose him. He’d crawl and beg and repent for centuries -- seriously, he’s got the time, he would do it.

  
  


Wonwoo looks up at him, feeling his presence in the room. 

  
  


“Hey,” Mingyu greets him stupidly. 

  
  


Wonwoo beckons him closer. He goes without a word, choosing to sit on the floor instead of the space beside Wonwoo, despite there being more than enough space for both of them. When he’s settled, he rests his forehead against the outside of Wonwoo’s knee. 

  
  


“Do you want me to read for you?” Wonwoo asks, hand coming to rest on the top of Mingyu’s head. It’s a habit of sorts for them. Mingyu had confessed to him once that when he had been alive, he resented having to sleep at all. He had wished his days had 48 hours so he could do everything he wanted to, but now he missed the ability to sleep at all. It irritated him immensely. 

  
  


And then Wonwoo had asked him if he should read something to distract him. Mingyu had accepted, if only for the opportunity to hear his voice as much as he could, but found out it worked more than he could have ever hoped for. It became a frequent thing. 

  
  


He still can’t sleep, it’s impossible to, but the low, deep and even rumble of Wonwoo’s voice is always enough to ease the restlessness and irritation, and it puts him in a trance every time. It’s better than sleep, because he gets the same calmness and he can still hear him.

  
  


“Sure,” Mingyu says, and then, because he never wants to demand anything from Wonwoo that he doesn’t want to give, he adds, “Only if it’s not a bother.” 

  
  


Wonwoo looks at him with a light frown between his eyes, and something in his expression Mingyu can’t quite name. It makes Mingyu shy all at once, the intensity of it; makes him hide his face against Wonwoo’s thigh.

  
  


“It’s never a bother, Mingyu.” He says, and then Mingyu feels a hand in his hair, petting him so gently he thinks the only reason he feels it it’s because he’s always hyper-aware of Wonwoo. It makes him feel heavy with emotions, when Wonwoo gives him affection so freely. 

  
  


There’s a heavy pause between Wonwoo’s sentences, and Mingyu thinks this is the moment when he’ll ask him what happened. He knows Wonwoo is curious, he has to be. 

  
  


Except the question never comes. 

  
  


He simply continues to pet Mingyu’s hair, and then starts reading him the novel about some guy that only ages in a painting. He honestly doesn’t pay attention to the story at all, and instead focuses on the way Wonwoo’s voice curls prettily around the words, the perfect pronunciation of foreign names, the depth of it. Like rich, strong wine. Like blood. 

  
  


He loses himself in it for a while, the satisfaction that washes over him. But the nagging feeling in the back of his mind doesn’t go away. It’s difficult to lie or hide things from Wonwoo, and he often wonders if it’s an effect of the bond, or simply the effect of Wonwoo himself. 

  
  


“Hyung,” He starts, sweet and quiet, softly interrupting the stream of words.

  
  


Wonwoo hums in response, a sign for him to continue. Mingyu looks up at him, and Wonwoo doesn’t close the book or focuses his full attention on him, like Mingyu is a skittish animal. 

  
  


“Is it worse? To remember him, now?” 

  
  


Wonwoo seems to really consider for a moment. “No, it isn’t.” 

  
  


“But it makes you miss him more, right?” 

  
  


Wonwoo hums his confirmation. He resumes petting Mingyu’s hair, their eyes locked onto each other. “I’m used to it. It doesn’t get any easier, but it doesn’t get any worse.” 

  
  


“I asked him to,” Mingyu blurts out, wincing at the way his voice sounds louder than he meant to, disrupting the calm atmosphere. “Not to make us forget. I’m sorry.”

  
  


“I figured you did,” Wonwoo gives him a gentle smile. “I never did ask, and I’m aware it’s very difficult to deny you things. It’s a rare occurrence that you ask anything for yourself.”

  
  


“It’s selfish.” Mingyu murmurs.

  
  


Wonwoo shakes his head. “I enjoy it when you ask for things. It’s brave, and it’s honest. I like you honest.” 

  
  


Mingyu feels himself go hauntingly still. He’s never been told that. As a matter of fact, he had always been told the exact opposite. He asks for too much, he wants too much, he’s too selfish. It was one of the things he tried so hard to change about himself; never ask for anything, don’t take more than what’s given to you. 

  
  


Hearing Wonwoo say that pulls the floor from under his feet. 

  
  


Wonwoo is not someone who lies very often. Mingyu is pretty sure he has never lied to him. If being honest it’s the one thing he wants that Mingyu can give him, he is going to be honest. No matter how scared he is. 

  
  


“I didn’t know,” Mingyu says a little desperately. “Wonwoo, _hyung_ , I’m sorry, I didn’t know you--” Love him, is what he wants to say.

  
  


“It’s okay,” Wonwoo reassures him. 

  
  


Mingyu shakes his head, looks away from Wonwoo’s face, eyes focusing on a random point outside the window. “It’s not. It’s not okay. I, um. I slept with him.” 

  
  


There’s no fit of rage, no hostility, not even surprise. There is only Wonwoo’s touch and silence. When Mingyu finds the courage to look at him, he finds no trace of harshness. Instead, the way Wonwoo looks at him is almost -- almost as if he’s pleased. 

  
  


When he realizes Mingyu doesn’t intend to continue, he speaks up. 

  
  


“Did you enjoy the way he touched you?” He asks. Nothing in his voice accuses jealousy. 

  
  


Mingyu nods, because he cannot lie. 

  
  


“Do you regret it?” 

  
  


Mingyu considers. It doesn’t look like Wonwoo _expects_ him to answer any sort of way but the truth, and the truth is he doesn’t, so he shakes his head. 

  
  


“It’s the second time you’ve apologized for something you’ve wanted today,” Wonwoo points out. “Don’t do that.”

  
  


And _that_ is a command.

  
  


“Are you not mad at me?” Mingyu can’t stop himself from asking. He needs to know. He needs to. “I didn’t know you two-- I didn’t know he was yours.” 

  
  


It seems like the wrong choice of words. Wonwoo huffs, a sound that would be inelegant coming from anyone else but him, but then he smiles at Mingyu. A gentle, secretive thing. “He’s not _mine_. There’s nothing to be mad about, Mingyu. I can only hope he treated you the way you deserve to be treated.” 

  
  


Mingyu’s shock must show on his face. He wants to protest. 

  
  


_But you love him._

  
  


“Even if he was, there is nothing I wouldn’t share with you. Or him, for that matter.”

  
  


There’s something to be taken from that. Mingyu is very sure he should be getting to some conclusion, some big enlightenment. There are dots to connect. But then Wonwoo gently holds his face in his hand and Mingyu’s instinct is to nuzzle into it, relief and sense of belonging washing over him.

  
  


When he looks into Wonwoo’s eyes, really allows himself to look, they’re holding so much affection Mingyu swears he can feel it all over him. 

  
  


And then it dawns on him Wonwoo’s eyes are a deep burgundy as opposed to the muted grey they should have. He curses himself internally for not noticing before. 

  
  


“Hyung,” Mingyu swears he doesn’t _whine_. “You’re hungry.” 

  
  


“I’ll feed soon. Don’t worry about me.” 

  
  


Mingyu takes only a second to decide. He fed only the night before, and there’s still Jeonghan’s blood coursing through him. _This_ he can give Wonwoo. 

  
  


“You can take it from me,” Mingyu phrases it like he’s asking for it. “I’m good for it.” 

  
  


That seems to give him pause, the intensity in his eyes back in full force. “No, you’re… It’s okay. You’re still recovering.” 

  
  


“I feel fine. I’m fine,” Mingyu rarely _enjoys_ being a brat, but it makes him want to roll his eyes. And then adds for good measure, “Please. Let me do this for you.” 

  
  


Wonwoo seems conflicted, but Mingyu can see the fight leaving him. “You don’t have to.”

  
  


“I really want to. You said you like me honest,” He murmurs, feeling as if he would be blushing all the way to his toes if he could. “It makes me feel good when I can do things for you.” 

  
  


It’s as good as a confession, really, if Mingyu ever even had to give him one. He’s very certain Wonwoo knows how much he loves him. Mingyu is not very subtle with his devotion.

  
  


It seems to please Wonwoo, at least. It’s the better outcome he could hope for. 

  
  


“Come here, then.” He gently pulls Mingyu up, and he swears he’s going for the spot beside him, but Wonwoo wraps an arm around his waist and very intentionally sits Mingyu on his side and right onto his lap. 

  
  


He feels like he could lose his mind. 

  
  


Mingyu is only a few centimeters taller than him, but it turns out it’s the exact height for his neck to be at a perfect angle for Wonwoo to sink his teeth into. 

  
  


Wonwoo looks up at him, silently asking him if he’s sure. He’s even more impossibly stunning at this distance, and Mingyu is hyper aware of just how far into each other’s spaces they are. As opposed to backing out, he finds the last of his nerve to wrap both arms around Wonwoo’s broad shoulders, bringing them even closer. 

  
  


“Hyung,” He makes his voice as mellow and delicately sweet as possible, something that always comes out when he’s trying to get Wonwoo to do something. “Take as much as you want. Please.”

  
  


He doesn’t dwell on how stupid it should sound, saying please when he’s the one offering something to be taken, but it’s a desire bigger than him; t be good and polite. He burns with the memory of how much Jeonghan liked it, how much it _pleased_ him to hear Mingyu ask for things he didn’t have to ask.

  
  


Before, Mingyu used to think Wonwoo had steel-like eyes, but with the way he looks at Mingyu at the request, Mingyu starts to see molten silver in it instead. He would like to believe that maybe he burns too. 

  
  


Wonwoo says nothing, but in lieu of a response, he tucks his nose on the corner of Mingyu’s jaw and inhales, deeply and soundly, so in contradistinction to how inhuman he acts at home. 

  
  


“Your scent is a little different,” He comments, but Mingyu can’t read the intonation in his voice, and is entirely too distracted by the way Wonwoo’s lips brush his skin when he speaks. 

  
  


“Do I smell like Jeonghan?” 

  
  


“Not quite,” Wonwoo denies the assumption. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s yourself, but different. Sweeter.” 

  
  


Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed at the sensation of Wonwoo speaking the words against his neck, still scenting him. “Maybe… Maybe it is because of the blood. Do you like it?”

  
  


“It’s still you.” Is all he says, and Mingyu can only hope he means yes, but he doesn’t push it.

  
  


“Hyung…” He says instead, squirming impossibly closer

  
  


Wonwoo only hums in response, and Mingyu can feel the moment his lips part to reveal the sharpness of his fangs. He feels the light scrape of the pointers against the skin, and the feeling alone is enough to have him suppressing a moan. 

When Wonwoo finally sinks his teeth into his neck, it feels like coming home. The sense of belonging settles into the pit of his stomach like a rock, makes him tighten his arms around Wonwoo. 

  
  


The thing is, it’s not even that often an occurrence for Wonwoo to feed from him as an alternative to the other way around. Wonwoo’s sense of responsibility constantly has him letting Mingyu, and a little less often Minghao, feed from him. So Mingyu has every time burned into his memory, every second of it, the feeling of Wonwoo connected to him so intimately. 

  
  


And he doesn’t remember it ever being as intense as this. The feeling is always warm and heavy, but Wonwoo is always as delicate as if he’s handling glass, and not someone as inhuman and lethal as him. This time, there’s a slip in the calm and collected handling. 

  
  


Wonwoo’s hand on the curve of his waist and the other on the unbitten side of his neck are firmer, holding onto Mingyu tighter. The rhythm of the blood flowing from Mingyu’s body into his mouth is faster, rougher. It’s a palpable hunger. Mingyu to be sucked dry, if this is how he gets. 

  
  


His hands find the hairs on the back of Wonwoo’s neck, and he grips at it gently, only to push Wonwoo’s mouth closer, his fangs deeper into him. And then, the unbelievable happens. Something Mingyu could only dream of. 

  
  


Wonwoo makes a low, guttural sound on the back of his throat, and he pulls so inhumanly hard at the side of Mingyu’s clothed waist that the fabric of his shirt rips like paper. Wonwoo, _Jeon Wonwoo_ , missteps and tumbles over his perfect sense of serenity and control, gives into instinct and devours him. 

  
  


He sucks at Mingyu’s neck so hard he’s pretty sure he’d be dead if he was human. Thankfully for the both of them, he’s equally strong -- no matter how much that fact _doesn’t_ keep him from melting into Wonwoo’s arms. 

  
  


As if his own sound snaps him out of it, Wonwoo immediately retracts his fangs from Mingyu’s neck, the wound sealing itself back immediately. Wonwoo, it seems, is not the only one who can’t stop himself from reacting, if the way Mingyu can’t help but whine at the loss is anything to go by. 

  
  


Wonwoo puts only a small distance between them so he can look at Mingyu’s face, checking for his reaction. Mingyu knows how he must look. _Debauched._ Eyes hooded and glazed over, mouth open, desire very clear on his face. 

  
  


As expected, with how easy it is to rile him up still, he’s _hard_. Wonwoo doesn’t know it, probably doesn’t notice it, but he is. 

Mingyu rests their foreheads together, unable to let himself hope the look Wonwoo sends him means what he wants it to mean. He has blood staining his bottom lip, so unlike him and shining proof of his slip of control. Mingyu reaches up to try and wipe it with his thumb, but it remains a bright red. 

  
  


“Messy,” He murmurs, trying to gently rub at Wonwoo’s bottom lip. “You’re never messy.”

  
  


Wonwoo doesn’t dignify that with a reply. Instead, he surprises Mingyu again, and kisses the pad of his finger.

  
  


“What does it taste like?” He asks, so quiet it’s barely a whisper at all. 

  
  


“Sweeter,” Wonwoo answers. “But still you.” 

  
  


“Sorry, I… I wanted you to be able to taste him.” 

  
  


The satisfied expression in Wonwoo’s face disappears into a frown as he puts some distance between them, looking straight into Mingyu’s eyes. His eyes are still a shade of dark brown. 

  
  


“Is that what you think? That this is only about Jeonghan?” There’s a desperation to his tone, frustration sizzling under the surface.

  
  


Mingyu tilts his head in confusion. “You love him.” 

  
  


Wonwoo closes his eyes and rests his head against Mingyu’s collarbone, like hearing that pains him, but doesn’t deny it. “It seems I’ve failed you miserably.” 

  
  


There’s a long pause after that, deafening silence in the room except for the sound of blood coursing through Wonwoo’s body. Mingyu is still confused, and he wants to deny it, he didn’t fail anything, but he doesn’t _know_ what he means.

  
  


“Hyung, it’s okay…” He says above a whisper, gently raising Wonwoo’s head to look back at him, scared that his tendencies of closing himself off will kick in, but refusing to drop his hold on his face.

  
  


“You _know_ you don’t have to do anything for me, Mingyu?”

  
  


He doesn’t get it. Mingyu is the one frowning now, unable to hide his frustration. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to. I _like_ it. You just-- You just have to tell me off if you don’t.”

  
  


Wonwoo leans into his hand and presses a kiss to his open palm. “I do, too much. That’s the problem. I want everything you have to give me, I just want you to be sure you want to. I don’t want you to think you have obligations to me because of the bond. You’re not my property.”

  
  


“ _Wonwoo_ ,” Mingyu whines, because it’s all he can do not to punch him. “You’re so stupid.” 

  
  


“Hey, I’m being serious.” 

  
  


“Yeah, that’s the worst part,” Mingyu protests. “Even Jeonghan realized it as soon as he met me.” 

  
  


“Realized what?” 

  
  


“That I-- You know what, I’m not saying it first,” He says, aiming for confidence, if only to hide how scared he is that he’s reading him wrong. “If you mean it you have to say it.” 

  
  


It feels like an eternity passes as he watches realization slowly dawning on Wonwoo’s face, his expression morphing into something so unbearably fond that Mingyu has trouble holding eye contact. 

  
  


“Mingyu,” He says his name, so reverently it makes Mingyu want to squirm and hide, but also bask in it. “ _Sweetheart_.”

  
  


He tenderly brushes a kiss to Mingyu’s open palm, then another one on his wrist. Mingyu feels it burning hot and cold against his skin. He pulls him against his chest tighter, pressing mellow, honey-sweet kisses on his collarbone, the hollow of his neck, the corner of his jaw.

  
  


“Forgive me,” He whispers, voice as deep as ever, lips brushing against Mingyu’s cheek. “For not being clear with you. For letting you believe Jeonghan is the only one I love.” 

  
  


“ _Hyung_...”

  
  


A kiss to his cheek, and Mingyu can’t help but close his eyes. “I do love you. I love you so much.” 

  
  


There’s a few seconds in which Mingyu almost forgets to answer, too lost in the sensation of being _loved_ . He loves him. Wonwoo _loves_ him. In the hopeless existence of being undead, cursed to watch time pass by as you stay frozen, Wonwoo is his home and his love and his heart. 

  
  


“Hyung,” Mingyu finally answers, floored by the sickenly sweet moment he finally gets to have. “I love you. I’m yours. Say it.” 

  
  


Wonwoo chuckles, lips brushing hotly against Mingyu’s own. “You are. You’re mine.” 

  
  


“Yeah…” It’s the only thing Mingyu is able to whisper before Wonwoo’s lips meet his. He licks at the seam of his lips, hot and demanding, rougher than Mingyu thought he would be. He loves it. He can taste the faint smear of blood when he gives a kittenish lick against his lips. 

  
  


The kiss is slow, slower than Mingyu would like, but Wonwoo seems to be taking his time tasting him, prodding his tongue against Mingyu’s, sucking his bottom lip between his. It’s the first time they’ve ever kissed, and it might as well be the best kiss he’s ever had.

  
  


He’s hyper aware of the moment Wonwoo sneaks an arm under his legs, using his speed and strength to flip them so he has Mingyu lying down on the window seat, Wonwoo kneeling between his legs.

  
  


He sucks harsh kisses along Mingyu’s neck, enough that he can feel Wonwoo’s fangs scraping against the skin, leaving shallow cuts along the way that heal immediately. Mingyu finds himself wishing Wonwoo could really, truly leave marks on him. There’s nothing he’d want more than to be able to wear him on his skin. 

  
  


“Hyung,” He makes sure to use his voice, the best one, the one he knows makes him sound so polite and _good_. “Please.”

  
  


Wonwoo hums, grazing a honey-coated kiss to his open, willing mouth. “Yes, love? What do you want?” 

  
  


“I want--” Mingyu’s thoughts halt. With Jeonghan, he wanted to be told what to do every step of the way, he felt safe and secure in the knowledge that Jeonhan would tell him how to please him. “I...”

  
  


Wonwoo smiles at him with all the patience in the world. “It’s okay. Tell me what Jeonghan did.” 

  
  


Mingyu whines as Wonwoo resumes the attention on his neck, absentmindedly ripping the remainder of his ruined shirt, kissing his way down to his exposed chest. “He, um. He told me what to do. He--”

  
  


“Keep going,” Wonwoo whispers, dangerously close to one of Mingyu’s nipples. 

  
  


“He got his mouth o-on,” It takes all of his self control not to trash when Wonwoo does exactly that, closes his mouth in a harsh suck and circles his tongue around the hardened bud of his nipple. “There. Fuck, e-exactly there.” 

  
  


Wonwoo lets up only to run his hands down Mingyu’s chest, finding the hem of his pants, sending him a look that clearly means he expects him to continue. 

  
  


“He was a little mean,” Mingyu confesses demurely, “He called me--”

  
  


Wonwoo’s eyes sharpen with expectation, hands expertly getting rid of Mingyu’s pants, leaving him bare and exposed like a feast. He feels like it, with the way Wonwoo looks ready to devour him, eyes roaming from his face, to his chest, and finally to the way his cock is already rock hard against his stomach. 

  
  


He runs a single finger up the length of his cock, tracing the pattern of where a thick drop of clear pre-cum is running down. 

  
  


“Um,” He doesn’t want to say it, too focused on holding back a shameful moan and too embarrassed to admit how much he liked it. But then again Wonwoo very explicitly telling him he likes when he’s honest has been branded on the back of his mind. “He called me pup. I liked it.” 

  
  


“Did you, now?” Wonwoo asks, even though Mingyu can tell he’s not exactly looking for an answer. He hovers above him again, attention back on Mingyu’s untouched nipple, mouth and teeth and tongue giving it an even harsher treatment than the first. 

  
  


Mingyu nods regardless. “He taught me how to open him up.” 

  
  


Wonwoo’s teeth graze sharply against the sensitive skin, tearing a high pitched moan out of Mingyu, already so high strung from the focused attention, feeling raw in his chest.. “He--He taught me how to fuck him.”

  
  


It’s enough to get a deep growl out of Wonwoo, who gives his nipple one last forceful, harsh suck before sitting back upright, eyes boring holes into Mingyu. 

  
  


“But hyung,” Mingyu starts before Wonwoo gets it wrong. “I’ve never-- I liked it a lot, but I’ve never--”

  
  


“Tell me, Mingyu.” Wonwoo’s voice can’t be mistaken for anything but a direct order. Mingyu feels himself burn all over. This is what he loves. This is the part that grounds him. He reaches for Mingyu’s cock, rubbing the flat and dry palm of his hand against the over sensitive and leaking head. 

  
  


“I’ve never ha---had. Fuck. Anyone inside me,” He admits shyly through stuttered moans, embarrassingly rolling his hips in search of Wonwoo’s touch. He’s sure Wonwoo knows, but he’s making it very hard to think. “ Hy _uuung_ \-- Want it to be you.” 

  
  


If it were anyone else, Mingyu is sure they would be terrified of the intensity he finds in Wonwoo’s gaze. He looks every bit the lethal creature that he is, but Mingyu is not everyone. He’s in love, and he’s horny, and it’s the most romantic thing in the world to him to know he is wanted this much, to know Wonwoo is the last person who would harm him. To be so sure he’s safe and _loved_.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you, _pup_ ?” It’s mortifying the way he lays the endearment like a killing blow, even though it’s considerably less mocking than Jeonghan did. In fact, it’s the sweetness of it that makes Mingyu want to scream. He only nods, afraid that he _will_ surely scream if he dare answer. 

  
  


“Alright,” Wonwoo agrees. “But I need you to do something for me first.”

  
  


“Anything,” Mingyu answers promptly, even though he’s distracted by the way Wonwoo’s hand doesn’t let up on his cock, and he’s shamefully close to coming already for the rough contact alone. 

  
  


“That’s a big promise, Mingyu.” Wonwoo smiles as he says it, clearly enjoying how much Mingyu is squirming, eyeing the tensing of his thighs from with the effort to keep himself from rutting against his hand. 

  
  


“ _Hyung_ , come on,” He pouts, desperately torn between wanting to come and wanting to wait. 

  
  


Wonwoo gives him another sweet smile, a cruel contrast to the way he closes his hand around his cock and fucks down the tight circle of his fingers. “I want you to come.” 

  
  


Mingyu tries, he really tries to protest, to explain he wants to come with Wonwoo inside him first, but with the build up from all the pining and longing and yearning for this, combined with how high-strung he already was from Jeonghan alone, he can’t help but work his cock into the insistent hand, needing to fuck up into it for only a few seconds to find himself coming all over his stomach and Wonwoo’s hand. 

  
  


Wonwoo leans down to press a saccharine kiss to his cheek, and Mingyu can feel him smiling. “Thank you, pup.” 

  
  


“You’re so--so mean,” Mingyu pouts dissatisfiedly, even though it goes directly against the way his cock jumps with interest as Wonwoo makes sure to coat his fingers in his come even more -- fuck, what the hell.

  
  


“Don’t be sad,” Wonwoo kisses him again, on the lips this time, too innocently for the context of the moment, barely a peck. “We’re not done, mn? I just wanted to see your face when you come before I fuck you. Now be good and lay on your chest for me.”

  
  


Mingyu’s anticipation flares up again, happy to do what he’s told.

  
  


Wonwoo’s clean hand grabs the back of his neck firmly, pressing down like a warning for him to _be good._

  
  


“You’re so pretty, do you know that?” Wonwoo says above a whisper, repositioning himself to sit between Mingyu’s legs. “So gorgeous. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” 

  
  


“Hyung, you can have me anytime you want.” It’s a sincere, heartfelt offer. 

  
  


He feels Wonwoo hovering over his back, immediately followed by the sensation of the other’s lips brushing a wet, hot kiss on his nape. “Mn. You’re so good to me, sweetheart.” 

  
  


The praise washes over him, enhancing the remainder of the pleasure still burning under his skin, along with the anticipation of being touched. When he feels it, it’s Wonwoo’s come-coated fingers prodding at his hole. Mingyu moans into a cushion and grabs onto the others strong enough to rip them apart, strung up tight by the knowledge that he’s being slicked up with his own come.

  
  


He knows he doesn’t need to be opened up, not the way Jeonghan had him do it. The accelerated healing meant Mingyu wouldn’t feel any pain, but the thought of it is so hot Mingyu doesn’t even protest. Wonwoo seems to wants this, the power to be able to take him apart by his own hands.

  
  


Wonwoo’s fingers circles around his hole, teasingly inserting them only up to the first knuckle. His mouth kisses and licks a pattern down his spine, and he makes a sound like Mingyu’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. 

  
  


“Lift your hips up for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo says, finishing the command with a kiss below Mingyu’s ear and his unoccupied hand resting on the small of his back. He, of course, does as he’s told, arching himself up, using his knees as support. “Mn, just like that.”

  
  


Finally, he pushes in a single finger, the slide made easier by Mingyu’s own come. He can’t help the whimper that pushes its way past his lips. Alive or undead, it’s a place he’s never been touched before by anyone besides himself. 

  
  


“Oh, fuck,” He mutters, cheek pressed down on the cushion. Wonwoo drags the pad of his finger against the tight and sensitive constriction of his walls. 

  
  


“So cute,” Wonwoo chuckles. Mingyu feels himself swell with affection at the way Wonwoo seems to be enjoying himself. It always nagged him, in the back of his mind, that no matter how affectionate or gentle Wonwoo could get with him, he always seemed to be holding himself back from something.

  
  


Now Mingyu knew. And if the true, unrestrained Wonwoo is like this, giving him smiles and laughter and praise so much more freely, Mingyu is never going to complain. 

  
  


He feels Wonwoo retract his finger, only to rub two over his perineum, gathering more of his come to push them in together. Mingyu accommodates the addition immediately, as he knew he would, with another little whimper he’s unable to stop.

  
  


“Hyung,” Mingyu urges. Even with his face partially hidden, he knows Wonwoo is watching him. He pouts, because it’s instinct. “You know you can’t really hurt me, right?”

  
  


Wonwoo hums, absentmindedly caressing his hip with his free hand. “And?” 

  
  


“I just--” He pushes back onto the fingers, just a little, enough for Wonwoo to get the hint. 

  
  


“Like this, baby?” Wonwoo curves his fingers then, just enough to press down on that spot inside of Mingyu, so sudden it tears a loud, long moan from his throat. “This is what you want?” 

  
  


“Oh my god,” Mingyu groans, hands fisting the torn up cushions to ground himself, hips pushing back against the pressure of the fingers rubbing over the bundle of nerves. “Fuck, hy _uuung_.”

  
  


“Won’t you be good, pup?” Wonwoo asks. “Let me fuck you with my fingers? I know you can wait.” 

  
  


Mingyu nods immediately. He’s going to be _so good_ , Wonwoo can do whatever he wants with him as long as he keeps doing _that_. He stills his hips as much as he can, because he’s good, and he’ll only take as much as he’s given.

  
  


Wonwoo rubs the pads of his fingers in circular motions, not letting up on the even pressure, and he shushes him soothingly when Mingyu lets out a muffled cry in pleasure. The muscles of his hole clench around the fingers and his thighs tense even more with how hard he tries not to fuck back onto it. 

  
  


“So tight,” Wonwoo murmurs. He slowly draws out the fingers after a few moments, finally easing the pressure that had Mingyu on the edge for the second time. His cock already weeping again, hanging rock hard between his legs and leaking onto the seat below him.

  
  


When Wonwoo pushes back in with three digits, he has no qualms about going straight into that point of pleasure, mercilessly rubbing at the nerves, faster than before. Mingyu has a moment to think that if he keeps this up, Mingyu will come a second time before being fucked by his cock. He realizes that’s probably the goal. 

  
  


“Hyung,” He cries out, unable to stop himself from twitching and squirming, mind fogged by the fire alight in his nerves. “I’m gonna c-come. Fuck, I--”

  
  


“Mn,” Wonwoo says in lieu of an answer, almost like he didn’t hear him.

  
  


“ _Ple-ase_ ,” The words crack in his voice, interrupted by little noises he can’t stop, weak and whiny.

  
  


Wonwoo hums, “It’s okay, pup. You can come again.” And with that, he presses hard into his prostate, fucking all the self-control out of him, making him clench and scream, muffled by the cushion he’s holding onto for dear life, untouched cock spurting out hot, fresh spurts of come below him.

  
  


He has no time to recover, doesn’t need to. He twists his neck to see, from the corner of his eye, Wonwoo getting rid of his clothes at light speed. Then, he does something so disgustingly _hot_ that makes Mingyu want to cry -- he coats his hand with Mingyu’s come again, only to slather it over his own leaking, hard cock. 

  
  


“Oh my god,” Mingyu groans into the pillow. “You’re so foul.” 

  
  


Wonwoo laughs darkly, using his other hand to push Mingyu’s hips down, uncaring of the remainder of the mess below him. “You love it.” 

  
  


Mingyu’s sex messed-up brain can’t even deny that. 

  
  


Wonwoo nudges his legs apart even more, then proceeds to drape himself over Mingyu’s back. He tucks his nose below his ear and inhales sharply, then sucks Mingyu’s lobe between his teeth. “I want to do so much with you.” 

  
  


“You can,” Mingyu murmurs back. 

  
  


“Mn,” A kiss to his neck, “I will.” Another to his cheek. 

  
  


At last, he can feel the head of Wonwoo’s slick cock pushing in between his cheeks, rubbing it over the oversensitive rim. He no longer tortures Mingyu with the wait, and pushes in with a long, fluid motion, bottoming out inside him. 

  
  


Mingyu trembles below him, legs twitching from the weird but blissful sensation of being oversensitive without the accompanying pain, a ragged moan falling freely from his lips. Wonwoo presses his nose even further into the corner of his neck, control slipping off as he groans and fucks into him like his hips work out of its own accord. 

  
  


“Yeah, pup,” He whispers, muffled by the way he speaks the words into his skin. “You _are_ mine.”

  
  


It’s all he says before giving way to instinct, finally not worried about going slow, hips fucking into Mingyu with the precision and force Mingyu craved, every pounding hitting him where he needs, fucking whimpering little cries out of him. He feels so good. 

  
  


So full. So loved.

  
  


Wonwoo’s hips are unrelenting as he rails into him, and Mingyu is really helpless this time, cock trapped between himself and the seat, the weight and force on Wonwoo on top of him rendering him unable to move, only allowing a barely-there roll is his hips.

  
  


The sounds of skin and their groans echo into the room. Mingyu clenches down on Wonwoo’s cock filling him up so well, and Wonwoo’s clean hand reaches for his own, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. 

  
  


Mingyu twists his neck as much as the angle allows it, pouting for good measure. “H-hyung, _kiss_.”

  
  


Wonwoo huffs affectionately, but leans down to press a lingering kiss to Mingyu’s pout in sync with an extra deep push right into his prostate, making the younger mew brokenly against his lips. 

  
  


“Hyung, I feel so good,” Mingyu cries, amazed at how he can still form coherent sentences with how fucked out he feels. “Want this forever.” 

  
  


Wonwoo kisses the corner between his shoulder and neck, hips working into circles, pace picking up as he pounds into him. “ _You’re_ good, pup. You’re so perfect, my perfect boy.” 

  
  


And then he makes sure Mingyu feels the praise sharply with the way he sinks his fangs into the spot. Mingyu sobs at the sensation; Wonwoo doesn’t even draw blood, just leaves his fangs sunk into him like a brand, like he knows exactly how much Mingyu loves it, so intimate Mingyu swears he can feel it in every nerve.

  
  


It’s enough to have his hips twitching again, and he only needs a little push. 

  
  


“Hyung--”

  
  


“Come,” Wonwoo interrupts him, whispering into his ear after he retracts his fangs from his shoulder. “Come with me, sweetheart.” 

  
  


So Mingyu does, cock trapped, so he can only be forced to take it as Wonwoo pushes his hips as deep as he can and grinds down as he comes, too, filling him up in thick ropes, their orgasms burning through them mind-blowingly strong. 

  
  


Time seems to stand frozen between them, both hauntingly still, taking in the moment. 

  
  


Naturally, Mingyu is the one to break the silence. 

  
  


“Hyung, let me turn around,” He whines. “Kiss me properly.” 

  
  


Wonwoo laughs against his nape, but ultimately complies. He shifts away so he can pull out of Mingyu, then gently turns him on his back. He takes a moment to look at Mingyu, really look, eyes roaming over his body and stopping where Mingyu is leaking his come. He looks so smug, so proud of himself. 

  
  


But then Mingyu pouts, because now he knows that’s a certain weakness for Wonwoo, and whines a little until Wonwoo lays back on top of him. 

  
  


He kisses him lazily, filth giving way to overwhelming gentleness, and he swears he can feel love pouring out of Wonwoo, the new discovery of just how _sweet_ he can be making him dizzy. 

  
  


“Hey,” Wonwoo snaps him out of his love-stricken revérie with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Reassuring and sure, he says “I love you so much.” 

  
  


Mingyu really wishes he could cry. He can practically feel his eyes burn. “I love you too.” And then, after a few moments. “But you’re so messy.” 

  
  


“You said I’m never messy.” Wonwoo frowns. 

  
  


“I was wrong,” Mingyu laughs. “You’re _so_ gross.” 

  
  


Wonwoo doesn’t dignify that with a response, simply tucks his nose into Mingyu’s hair to scent him with a laugh of his own. 

  
  


“We should clean up,” Mingyu murmurs, because he, for one, hates being dirty, even if it’s from his and Wonwoo’s drying come. He loves his cleanliness. Wonwoo gives no sign he hears him, distractedly pressing kisses to his hair, his temple, the apple of his cheek. “Come on, so you can fuck my mouth in the shower.” 

  
  


That, of course, seems to pick his interest. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s several days later when they find themselves in a similar position, only this time they’re in the comfortable couch of the living room, and Wonwoo has him laying down between his legs, back to chest, Mingyu’s head resting where Wonwoo’s living heart would have been. 

  
  


Wonwoo has a hand tangled in his hair, the other holding one of his books. Mingyu, as usual, has no grasp on the story whatsoever, much more interested in leaning up every now and then to kiss the corner of Wonwoo’s jaw, basking in the sensation of just being like this. 

  
  


Every now and then Wonwoo will respond to his kisses with one of his own, on the top of his head or his temple. 

  
  


He pauses at some point, mid-sentence, as if he’s focusing on something else, somewhere distant. Before Mingyu can ask, he speaks up. 

  
  


“Minghao is back.” 

  
  


He’s always been better at sensing things than Mingyu, who’s obviously even worse at it when he’s distracted by how in love he is, but it makes Mingyu immediately perk up. 

  
  


Sure enough, Minghao walks into the house seconds after, immediately finding them tangled up in the living room couch. He gives himself only a second to take in the scene in front of him, but asks no question, only raises a perfect eyebrow. Mingyu is thankful for that. 

  
  


He opens his arms so Minghao can go straight into them, both uncaring that Minghao drops down on top of Mingyu, adding onto the weight above Wonwoo. The big, bad and old vampire can take it. 

  
  


Wonwoo gives them a small, fond smile, not bothering to complain about the way all three are tangled up now. His hand on Mingyu’s hair retracts, only to reach out to pet Minghao’s lovingly. Mingyu is not bothered in the least. 

  
  


“How was everything?” 

  
  


Minghao shrugs, settling more comfortably against Mingyu, leaning into Wonwoo’s touch. 

  
  


“Alright. The fledgling is stronger and faster than we anticipated, but we caught him. He’s a bit weird and around our age when we were turned, but he’s fine.” He shrugs. “Gege is taking care of him now. He came with us willingly when he realized we just wanted to help. His name is Soonyoung.” 

  
  


Wonwoo asks a few more questions, the responsible side coming out, but Mingyu can’t find it in himself to focus. 

  
  


Soon enough, though, he lets Minghao and Mingyu settle back against him, picking his reading back up as they enjoy a quiet moment between family.

  
  


Mingyu closes his eyes, as relaxed as he can ever be, and lets his mind wander. Surrounded by people he loves and that love him back, he can’t help but think of the one piece missing. 

  
  


Jeonghan. 

  
  


They still have to figure that one out. But they have time, and they have each other. Mingyu can’t think of a better scenario than that. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hey did you know veraison is when grapes are ripening and becoming red and getting less acidic and become sweeter and the scent gets more attractive for consumption so they're good for wine making. i'm so subtle and smart 
> 
> merry christmas!!! i know this is not the ot3 follow up yall wanted but it's coming! i really felt like we needed a minwon interlude before all that happens. 
> 
> as usual, i have no respect for ENGLISH, which is only one of the many languages stored in my brain. my only approach to writing is being one of the infinite monkeys with one of the infinite typewriters.
> 
> if you haven't yet follow me on my mess of a [**twt acc for writing (@poetcores)**](https://www.twitter.com/poetcores) and please don't be scared to leave a comment!! touch on your spirit of christmas or else


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